


I Don't Want What I Can Get

by DeborahShay



Category: Victor Frankenstein (2015) RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-15
Updated: 2016-09-15
Packaged: 2018-08-15 03:30:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8040811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeborahShay/pseuds/DeborahShay
Summary: “I own you, do you hear me?” Victor’s breath was hot on Igor’s face, nothing but whiskey evident. “I carved you into the man you are, my pretty little creation. Me, not Lorelei, not anyone else; I want you to remember that.”





	I Don't Want What I Can Get

_I’m fucked up,_

_I’m black and blue_

_I’m built for it,_

_All the abuse_

The apartment smelled like Victor: a cocktail of various chemicals and the all-too-intoxicating scent of whiskey. The scent had become one of home to Igor, and it followed him everywhere he went. Every waft of wine or rum had his heart aching, making him wish that he was back at their apartment already. He hardly saw Victor lately, given that nearly every time he came home, the mad doctor was downstairs in the basement, working on “their project”. Igor only saw the doctor when something was needed of the former hunchback, an organ or limb or the more-than-occasional fix of alcohol.

            It’s ironic, Igor thought; Victor was quite like whiskey—quite a strain on your being, but addictive all the same. Given his past, Igor had never known kindness like this, or intelligence or passion, for that matter. At the circus, it was always about the money, living town to town on pennies and stragglers so bored with their everyday mundanity they had nothing better to do. Ever since his life had taken this turn, ever since he had the fortune of running into the eccentric Mr. Frankenstein, it wasn’t about so much surviving anymore as it was living. He got to do what he always longed for, and for that, he would never be able to repay Victor, but he would spend the rest of his life trying.

            Currently he sat in the corner of the apartment in the makeshift study; the one Victor had recently opened up to him. Igor scrounged through one of the medical books when he heard the hatch to the basement creak open, an inebriated doctor stumbling up the steps.

            “Igor, my friend,” Victor flashed a lopsided grin, his cheeks risen to a pink hue.

            “Victor,” Igor returned the smile over his shoulder before turning the chair around. “I’ve been meaning to ask something of you, but didn’t want to disturb you.”

            “Ask away, my friend,” Victor perched at the end of the desk sat in front of Igor, something he only did when he was imbibed.

            “Lorelei has asked me to accompany her once more, another one of her caretaker’s ventures, I’m sure,” Igor began; sweat beginning to pool at his temples at the sudden change in his companion’s features. “Would I be able to tonight? I would not be gone late.”

            “Oh, I’m not sure tonight would be suitable; I need you,” Victor stood, making his way to the glass of whiskey across the room.

            “What am I needed for? You’ve asked nothing of me all day, except for the hourly glass-fill,” Igor started, making his way over to the taller man. “I’ve no clue what I’m even helping you do; you keep me in the dark.”

            Victor downed the glass in one swig, turning to face his previous project. A certain fire in his eyes had Igor stepping back from his space, that air of playful energy a memory. “Because you have no need to know; I will tell you when the time is right. Now, I said no.”

            “I’m not some plaything, Victor!” Igor stunned himself, crying out and stopping the fleeing doctor in his tracks. Igor followed.

            “I’m not something you can just use to your advantage simply because I’m there. I am a human, Victor, and I will never forget what you’ve done for me,” Igor choked back tears, swallowing hard. “But I won’t be treated this way anymore. I had enough of it at the circus.”

            Before he knew it, the raven-haired boy was reeling; his cheek stinging from a force he thought was well behind him. Covering the burning injury with a light hand, he looked back at the man responsible for the blow. Igor took a few steps back as Victor invaded his space, chest heaving with every breath he took.

            “I own you, do you hear me?” Victor’s breath was hot on Igor’s face, nothing but whiskey evident. “I carved you into the man you are, my pretty little creation. Me, not Lorelei, not anyone else; I want you to remember that.”

            The malice in Victor’s words was undermined by the look on his sunken face; his cerulean eyes held something resembling fear almost, the pink in his cheeks joining them to create almost a childlike look of fear—like someone was about to steal away his favorite toy.

            “Victor…” Igor breathed out, examining the other man’s face and fighting the urge to reach out.

            It was like the armor had cracked; the narcissistic, eccentric energy that usually bounded off of Victor in tidal waves was no longer there. All that was left was a melancholy energy, and the heavy heart was evident on the man’s sleeve.

            Before Igor could move, he was being shoved against the wall, his back thudding painfully against the stone. His wrists were held above his head in a vice lock, and he was sure there’d be bruises within the hour. A layer of sweat beaded on his skin, the look of intensity Victor was placing on him making him feel beyond vulnerable.

            Victor’s lips were a breath away from his, the entirety of the doctor’s body pressed into his. A growl escaped the taller man’s throat, sending shivers down Igor’s spine. “Mine.”

            Victor’s bright red lips were on his before he could think straight, attacking with fervent need. Within a few seconds, Igor’s mouth was moving against his master’s without his own accord, twisting his wrists in a poor attempt of escape. Feeling his creation’s struggle, Victor’s hands tightened around Igor’s wrists, wringing a surprised yelp from the smaller man. Moving from Igor’s lips, the doctor began placing open-mouthed kisses to his neck, leaving bruises on the pale flesh leading down to his collarbone. Involuntary moans escaped from Igor’s lips, being able to do nothing but watch as Victor bit down on his shoulder.

            Igor let out a sigh of appreciation when Victor finally let his wrists go free, moving his skilled fingers to rip Igor’s shirt open, the buttons popping off. Victor’s eyes met Igor’s momentarily, the hunger in them making him almost painfully hard. Victor slid onto his knees, kissing down exposed pale flesh until he reached the waistline of Igor’s pants. Igor’s heart beat against his ribcage, depriving him of any logical sense. He was anxious beyond belief, this being the first of any sexual encounter he’s ever had. But underneath the anxiety, he wanted this more than he’d ever wanted anything, and he knew Victor needed it.

            Popping the button on Igor’s pants open, he slid them down alongside his undergarments. Igor’s cock was erect against his navel, and Victor wasted no time in wrapping his fingers around the smaller man’s hips, placing chaste kisses against Igor’s exposed thighs.

            “My God, you are beautiful,” Victor moaned into the pale flesh, biting and sucking on Igor’s inner thighs. Igor could barely stand upright, he was quivering so much. His fingers had involuntarily threaded into Victor’s thick hair, hanging on like his life depended on it.

            Without warning, Victor’s lips were around Igor’s length, sucking at the sensitive head. Igor cried out, tightening his grip on the raven locks and causing a guttural moan to escape Victor’s throat. The vibrations weakened Igor’s knees, his head thrown back against the wall as he held on. Victor opened his throat, taking in all of Igor’s length with ease and hollowing his cheeks. He skillfully guided his tongue around the tip of Igor’s cock before swallowing him down again, earning a breathy moan from his “beautiful boy” before him each time.

            Igor’s stomach coiled, every muscle in his being tightening painfully. His dull nails dug into the flesh on Victor’s shoulders, sure to leave marks in their wake, as a warning. “V-Victor, I-I’m going to—“

            Victor only tightened his grip on his ivory hips, digging his fingers into the bone. With a loud cry, Igor came, spilling into his master’s throat. Victor swallowed him down, a small amount of come pooling past his abused lips. While Igor looked down at him in bewilderment, Victor slid a thumb across his own cheek, collecting the excess come and licking it off of his finger.

            Igor suddenly became very aware of his nakedness, residing to cover himself with his hands before Victor slapped them away. Standing up off of his knees, Victor’s hands found residence once more on his companion’s pale hips, placing a gentle kiss to Igor’s trembling lips. Victor pulled back and examined Igor’s face, tears pooling in the crevices of his eyes at the bruising done to his favorite creation. Igor’s cheek had bruised, the purple and red a stark contrast to his pale skin. A few scratches had taken place within the bruise itself, dried life-force stuck to the wounds.

            “Words cannot express, Igor…” He swallowed back tears, gingerly reaching out to the wound. “My beautiful, benevolent creation…”

            Igor brought trembling hands up to his master’s face, placing them upon his cheeks before kissing each one. A stunned look lightened up Victor’s face, and for once in their relationship, Victor was the one needing consolation.

            A few tears escaped the doctor, leaving trails down his full cheeks. “You are all I’ve got.”

            Igor nodded in understanding, meeting the childlike eyes of the man who saved him. “And I’m not going anywhere.”


End file.
